


Lucky

by jordanthenerd



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Capitol Wasteland, F/M, Ghoul Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Apocalypse, Racism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-08 05:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordanthenerd/pseuds/jordanthenerd
Summary: Ella has only ever known the polished interior of Vault 101. Now, she must take to the rugged Wasteland to find her runaway father. Ella had always been taught to love and appreciate all things clean, perfect, and pure. But when she stumbles across a massive, enslaved ghoul, she has to adjust to these new feelings that dwindle on inappropriate. Maybe it's time to love things that are tarnished, marred, and dirty? If only she could get past Charon's thick and tough exterior, the cruel racism of the wastes, and the airtight rules of the contract.Who knows? Ella has always been very lucky...





	1. The Capital Wasteland

The light was blinding... 

Pain shot through Ella's eyes and she lifted her shaking hands to shield her face. Her right hand still clutched the 10mm gun tightly, shaking ever so slightly. Her chest was heaving and Ella recognized the strange rips as sobs, her eyes still dry. At last, she lowered her hands, the blinding light settling... The setting that unfolded before her was horrifying, a dramatic difference from the vault life she had come to know and love. The earth was more sand and dry, cracked earth and asphalt that dirt. There were black, charred structures that stuck out of the ground for miles, and in the distance, she could make out bleached, shambles of abodes. It truly looked like the life had beensucked out of the world. 

This was not the world she had read about in the pre-war books...

Yet the sun beamed down warmly on Ella's pale skin, gracing it with the first bit of Vitamin D she had ever experienced. The air was stale and musty, but there was a fresh scent that lingered, something that Ella never experienced while buried under all that metal and steel underground. 

Ella's slender fingers gripped the pistol a little more firmly, her green eyes sliding to and fro as she tried to pinpoint the best route her father might have taken. But as she thought of her dad, her thoughts veered back to the mutiny that unfolded after his leaving. _Tom Holden._.. She shivered at the memory cauterized in her brain of him getting mercilessly and callously gunned down and hearing Mary, Tom's wife, screaming in horror and agony... All for what? 

_We are born in the vault...we die in the vault..._ Her head recited as she sent a glance backward toward the cave. She couldn't have made it out without the help of her dear friend Amata, or Officer Gomez. Even Butch, the fucking tool. She gazed down at the Tunnel Snakes jacket wound around her waist and felt a wisp of regret. Shit, she already missed it all... The purity, friendship, and even the bullying...but when push came to shove and shit hit the fan, everyone's true colors came out. Ella made a mental note to try and return to the Vault one day after everything had settled. She owed Amata that much, even though her father was a power-crazed ass hole.  _I should have shot him in the head for what he did to Jonas..._ Ella thought wistfully as she took a tentative step forward, toward the uncertainty of the foreboding Wasteland. 

But when it came down to it, Ella was weak and merciful. She couldn't conform to the cruelty of the situation.

_I hope that son of a bitch get' what he deserves...._ Ella thought angrily, beginning her slow walk toward the cracked and shambled asphalt...a road? Maybe she should aim for the broken neighborhood? That seemed a little promising.... She eased her way off of a rock quarry and began toward the neighborhood, passing by a rusted and creaking, er,  _water tower?_ Ella was fascinated, however, when the ground beneath her feet crunched. There was a texture to the way her foot rolled off the earth. It was strange and intriguing. Ella tried to pick through the homes that were covered in dust and dirt and splintered wood. She managed to come up with a hand full of caps, bobby pins, and familiar bottles of drugs she had seen in her father's office. She had at least four stimpacks, a bottle of Buffout, and Med-X, an other-worldly painkiller. 

"He's not here...not a trace anywhere..." Ella mumbled as she shifted her eyes and they stumbled across a strange, rusted settlement, that looked constructed out of a planes' wings as its exterior, and a lot of scrap metal forged together for massive, fortified walls. Ella gripped the pistol tightly in her hand as she raced up to the path toward the promising settlement. She stumbled by a hair, red-skinned animal packed down with luggage, it was guarded by a rough looking man holding a dangerous shotgun and she decided to save her questions for someone who didn't look like they would blast her brains out if she even muttered a greeting. 

At the entrance was a protectron, stomping back and forth. "Move. Along. Citizen." It told her curtly and Ella sidestepped away from it, her heart hammering nervously as she faced what she assumed was the gate, several massive jet fans spinning as the gates jerked and screeched open. Swallowing her nerves, Ella walked inside...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The interior was rugged, but it was fortified, despite the creaking aches and groans of the metal. She could make out a weave work of stairwells leading to businesses, homes,  and bars, and as she gazed down past a grungy man with a laser rifle and cowboy hat...her eyes bulged when she made out the form of an undetonated atomic bomb! And were those people worshipping it? They had to be suffering tremndous radiation damage from such a close proximity-

"Well, I'll be damned. You're from that vault! Vault 101! Ha-ha!" The man in the cowboy hat cackled as he approached her. "I ain't seen one of those jumpsuits in a long time!" Ella turned to acknowledge him and he stopped a few paces away from her. "Name's Lucas Simms, town sheriff. And mayor, too, when the need arises...I don't know why, but I like you, girl! Something tells me you're all right. So welcome to Megaton. Just holler if you need something."

_"Megaton_..." Ella tested the name out and smiled. The town had character, and the sheriff/mayor seemed nice enough. "Nice town you got here, sheriff. It's a pleasure to meet you,"

"Friendly  _and_ well-mannered? I think we're going to get along just fine. You treat my people nice, and you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," 

"Right," Ella gave a crisp nod, a few pieces of cornsilk blonde hair falling into her eyes. "Message received,"

"I'm glad we understand each other. Now, is there something I can help you with?" Lucas noticed the way her eyes lit up with recognition as if realizing she had left something vital at home. 

"Yes, actually. I'm looking for my father. Middle-aged guy. Maybe you've seen him?" She asked hopefully and Lucas grimaced. 

"Nope, sorry. I got enough fires to put out in this place that I don't have time to keep tabs on every visitor. I'd ask around town," He advised her, watching as her face fell, clearly disheartened. 

"Right, I'll do that..." She mumbled and her eyes attached to the bomb behind him and she pursed her lips curiously. "Can we discuss that bomb?"

"The bomb? Well, it's still active. The Children of Atom are harmless enough since they're the only ones that go near it. But I would sleep a lot better if it got disarmed....why, you have some experience with explosives?"

"I'm pretty lucky," She shrugged with a small smile. "I can take a look at it for you?"

"Well...okay, but don't go blowing us all up," Lucas warily agreed. 

"Then I'll get back with you. I'm going to go look around and see if anyone has seen my dad, I'll come to you if I have any questions or if anything changes!" Ella left and he tipped his hat to her, watching her leave toward the marketplace. 


	2. Moriarty's Saloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella has stumbled into a bar with hopes of finding her father but finds out much more than she bargained for.

The people of Megaton were a little rough around the edges and their voices quipped harshly at her to go away when she approached them for information. The only ones willing to talk to her were the ones interested in the small bit of jingle in her pockets, or minds were mushy with radiation from such a close proximity to the undetonated bomb. It was only when she found herself near the Water Processing Plant, run by a weathered old man in a mechanic jumpsuit. His badge read 'Walter' and he was gingerly puffing on a cigarette, seemingly perturbed. 

"Hey, excuse me," Ella pardoned herself as the man gave her an off glance, lowering his cigarette from his wrinkled lips. He dropped his cigarette on the rusted floor beneath them and stomped out the ash as he faced her. 

"What do you need?" Walter sure sounded a lot more chipper than he appeared. 

"I'm looking for my father," Ella explained for what felt like the umpteenth time, her thin brows furrowing to form a small divot in her forehead. "Middle-aged guy? Maybe you've seen him?"

"Could be the guy I saw at Moriarty's Saloon not too long ago, I'd ask there," Walter advised her. Ella heart staggered a beat as her eyes gleamed with a hope Walter hadn't seen in years. 

"Oh! Th-Thank you so much! If you need anything just let me know!"

"Well, if you're headed out into the Wasteland anytime soon, be on the lookout for scrap metal. The plant is on it's last legs," Walter scratched his scraggly beard and Ella gave a firm nod. 

"Absolutely, thank you, Walter!" And she was off again, trying to navigate the labyrinth of stairwells and strange overhanging houses. The battered, rusted signs were pointed haphazardly and the handwriting was rough, and hard to make out. Ella only last her patience when she ended up in Craterside Supply, her pale cheeks flushed with irritation as she realized she had been running in circles for close to an hour. There was a redhaired woman with her hair bound tightly in a bun humming softly as she cleaned the countertop her register sat upon with a towel. Her green eyes flickered over to the panting vault dweller and she gasped ever so softly. 

"Hey! You're a stray from that vault!" Moira was her name, cooed. "I haven't seen one of you for years!" 

That was the second time Ella had heard that phrase, or variation of such....Surely they were confusing Vault 101 for a different Vault? After all, it wasn't the only one built. But she didn't dwell on correcting her. 

"Good to meet you, I'm Moira Brown, and I run Craterside Supply. But what I really do most is tinkering and research," Moira introduced herself. "Say, I'm making a book about the Wasteland--it'd be really great to have the foreword by a vault dweller. Help me out, would you?" Ella hadn't gotten a word in yet but hesitantly nodded to agree. 

"Sure thing..." Ella laughed awkwardly. "What do you want to know?"

"Great! Just tell me what it's like to live underground," Moira was scrambling for a pen and paper as she spoke. "-or to come outside for the first time, or whatever strikes your fancy," 

A bed seemed to really strike Ella's fancy more than anything. Tirelessly, Ella racked her brain for a good response. 

"Well...it was paradise down there, I guess is the closest thing. No fear, no worries, no fighting..." Ella smiled fondly and then frowned. "Until dad left," 

"Oh, your dad left you alone? That's so sad...Here, take this armor. It should help keep you from being food or attacked by anything else in the wastes while your looking for him," Moira smiled as she walked across the room and delved into a trunk to hand her a bundle of clunky metal and leather. 

"Why the generosity?" Ella asked, taking the armor from the woman. 

"Oh, think of it as a gift for helping with the book. In fact, want to help me with the research? I can pay you! It'll be fun!" Moira squealed happily and Ella smiled warmly at the eccentric woman. She was so generous to her...well, Ella couldn't just tell her no. 

"Sure. I'm a little pressed for time right now, but as soon as I become available, I would love to help. What did you have in mind?" 

"Let's see...dealing with radiation, testing an experimental device, and I won't lie," Moira folded her arms across her chest. "It may include some reading, that sort of stuff, you know?" Ella smiled inwardly. It didn't sound too terrible. "But for all that, I can pay you caps, meds, chems, and maybe even a few of those unique inventions if you do a good job!" 

"It sounds like...fun," Perhaps that wasn't the word Ella was looking for but it certainly was the winner for Moira who grinned and clasped her hands together excitedly, doing a small victory dance. 

"Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Moira exclaimed, gathering the vault girl into a tight embrace. It was then she began to explain the details of the Wasteland Survival Guide to Ella, who thought it seemed easy enough. Ella told her she would work on getting irradiated as soon as she had some firm leads on her dad. Moira nodded understandingly, telling the girl to take her time. 

"You wouldn't happen to know how to get ot Moriarty's saloon from here, would you?" Ella asked as she started for the door. Moira nodded. 

"Take a right when you leave, follow the stairwell up to the left. It's just past the bathrooms on the right. Has  _Saloon_ painted across it," Moira explained and Ella nodded, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as she felt confident in the woman's directions and Ella's navigation abilities. 

Ella followed Moira's direction's to a 'T', not stopping to ask for help or to offer it. She was a woman on a mission to find her father before he slipped further out of her grasp.  She paused at the bathroom to put on her new armor, feeling a little more secure with the leather and combat metal snugly hugging her body. As she was leaving the grimy bathroom, her mind began to race with wild thoughts, her heart picking up speed in her chest, thumping faster and faster.  _Why did he leave?_ She allowed herself to ask the question.  _How could he have been so closed minded to think that I would be safe on my own? You don't just leave the vault without consequences following..._ She flinched, stopping at the door as particularly painful memory rose to the surface of Jonas limp body lying on the ground, his crimson blood splattered across the lab... Ella noticed her hand, readily gripping the door was shaking violently. 

She cursed and pulled her hand back to her side to calm herself back down, trying to suck in calming breaths. She turned around to face the sink, a foggy mirror hanging above the chipped and stained ceramic. She turned on the faucet, her the pipes creak and groan in response as water came spurting out. She cupped her hands under the flow, relishing the feel of the cool liquid and leaned her face down splash the water over her cheeks, rinsing the grime, dust, and sweat off her face. She made the mistake of taking a swallow, and the water fought it's way back up, burning her throat and mouth. Ella sputtered and coughed violently, the radiated water feeling as if it were ooozing into the tissue of her esophagus and stomach lining. That was...vile...she wiped the drool and spit off of her chin as she backed away from the sink, cursing mildly. 

With that she left the bathrooms and found herself at the Saloon after a short walk. Her throat still felt raw and burned like the dickens. 

In the bar, Ella noticed everything was just as shambled as the rest of the town. It was all a dramatic difference than what she was actually used to down in the vault. The bar had two floors and- Holy Christ on a cracker what  _is_ that thing banging on the radio at the bar?! The bar was crisp and clean for a collection of scrap metal and rust, but the  _thing_ in the corner had her mind occupied. It was humanoid, that's for sure. She could hear it grumbling and cursing as it banged the radio again, a woman with bedraggled ginger hair stood watching him, smoking a cigarette and trying to console him with a few words.  The thing was male, Ella could tell. He was missing patches of hair, his skin looked like it had been dragged through a cheese grater, and there was a hollow hole where his nose presumably was. 

"Agh! Come on you piece of junk!" The thing groaned, giving the radio another rough smack. "Everyday it's the same. damn. thing," 

"I told you, Gob," The red haired woman sighed impatiently, lowering her cigarette to blow the smoke out the corner of her mouth. "It ain't the radio. The Enclave station comes in just fine. It's Galaxy news. Their signal's been shit lately," Ella felt a wisp of pity for the man...and couldn't help but wonder what the hell happened to the poor guy. Out of the corner of her eyes, she was mildly surprised to see a man waving her over. He looked much different from the other inhabitants of Megaton. Crisp clean suit. Relatively clean.  She grew tired of his constant beckoning and decided to entertain the annoying sod so he'd quit his incessant waving. 

 "Can I...help you?" Ella made sure to feign a lighter tone. 

"My-my..." Burke's eyes skirted up and down the slender girls physique, adorned in a slim fitting vault suit that accentuated every sweet curve... "Just when I had all but given up hope. My dear girl, I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I am Mister Burke," His voice was sickening to Ella's ears, like a slimy, slithering snake. "And you, well, you are not a resident of this putrescent cesspool. That makes you a rather valuable individual," His voice spat across the reference to Megaton and Ella did will to hide the frown from threatening her face. 

Ella was disturbed sufficiently by this mans vague implications...she wanted nothing more than to turn her tail and run. But she couldn't lie she was feeling curious, and leap at the opportunity of being able to do another service if it would help find her father. 

"Mister Burke, is it?" Ella had cleared her throat and plastered on an award-winning smile. "Please, continue. i find myself...enthralled," She made sure to pick her words from the dictionary she had occupied herself with reading in the vault. 

"Finally, someone with a modicum of civility and common sense," He breathed a sigh of relief. "I represent certain...interests. And those interests view this town, _Megaton_ , as a blight on burgeoning urban landscape," Ella felt a shiver roll down her spine. "You have no connections here. No interests in this cesspool's affairs, or fate. You could assist us in erasing this little accident off the map," 

 _How?_ Ella wasn't about to administer terrorism on this little town. So she urged him to continue, justice fueling her curiosity. 

"Go on, I'm listening," 

"The undetonated atomic bomb for which this town is named is still very much alive. All it needs is a little...motivation," Mister Burke light explained as if he were talking about the extermination of an ant hill. "I have in my possession a Fusion Pulse Charge constructed for a singular purpose--the detonation of that bomb. You'll rig it to the bomb. Then you'll get paid. Handsomely. What do you say?" 

Ella felt as if an atom bomb had been dropped in her stomach! He was speaking of callously murdering a bunch of people! The more this man spoke, the more she wished she had never even left the vault. And the way his eyes, guarded by those sunglasses, lingered on her body.... _Her body..._ An idea struck Ella as she thought of the different ways of possibly castrating this fool. Maybe she could... _flirt_...him out of wanting to blow up the town? It seemed like a long shot, but at the same time  _too easy._  

"I have a  _proposition_ of my own. Would you like to hear it, Mister Burke?" She asked ever so sweetly, fluttering her thick lashes and leaning her weight onto one round hip to give him more shape to llook at... _it didn't fail._ His dark eyes blinked nervously, flustered at her suave and lustful attitude. Ella had him, hook line and sinker. He would be an easy catch. 

A lewd smile curved his mouth. "Color me intrigued. Go on..." 

What had she heard Beatrice Armstrong drunkenly whispering to her father one Christmas party, three years ago? Ah...

"You see, I live here, lover. And surely you wouldn't want to hurt me?" Ella jutted her bottom lip for extra effect, her eyes a little misty. It had the predicted effect as he sat backward in his chair, scrambling for words. 

"Well, I...I mean-of course not!" He babbled apologetically. "I must admit, I've never met a woman quite like you before. This changed everything," He bit his lip as he racked his brian for ideas to save this new flame he had sparked in his new  _beloved._ "I'm not sure what I'm going to tell Tenpenny...I'll think of something," 

"Take all the time you need to think, my love," She mentally gagged at the pet name. "I'm going to ask the help for a drink,"

"Here, take some caps," Burke handed her a fistful of caps which Ella graciously accepted. "Allow me some time to mull things over. I should have an answer before you finish your drink," He winked and Ella almost dropped the facade, giving a sweet nod and quickly waltzing away, feeling his lingering gaze on her body. 

"Come on!" Gob, groaned slamming his fist on the radio again. "Work! Come on, work dammit..." The lady sighed and walked away from him at that point. "Why. won't. you. work! Goddamn radio! Son of a bitch!" Ella took this opportunity to walk to the bar, plastering on a warm smile.  Gob noticed the blue suit and looked away from the troubling piece of electronic machinery to face the fair skinned girl. Ella now noticed how filmy his eyes were and she swallowed nervously. 

"Hey, smoothskin, do you need something? A drink, maybe? Anything? Anything at all," 

Ella steeled her resolve. "Let me think for a moment, my good man," She wondered if that last bit was appropriate, but judging by the way Gob's eyebrows (or what was left of them) shot up in alarm it definitely wasn't normal. 

"Wait...you're not gonna hit me? Yell at me? Not even berate me a little bit?" Ella felt a twinge in her chest at the small, pitiful edge to his voice. People actually do that to him? Sure he's a little rough to look at, but...Ella assumed they might pity him. 

"I-I hadn't planned on it," Ella told him, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she wondered if there were more like gob...what was his condition? 

"Well now. That's a surprise! I'm used to every asshole smoothskin in this town giving me shit because I look like a corpse,"  _Why do you look like a corpse, though..._ "I'm glad to see there a few worthwhile people around here...Listen, Moriarty'd have my head if he caught me selling at a discount, but for you, I'll risk it," 

Ella felt her chest grow warm at his generosity. "Thank you, Gob...I'm looking for my father. Salt and pepper hair. Maybe you've seen him?"

"Oh yeah!" Gob exclaimed. "I do remember a guy like that. Honestly, I usually keep my head down. I tend to get smacked around if I look customers in the eye. But talk to Moriarty. He'd know more," 

"Can I please ask, and I apologize if I offend you, but what happened to you?" Ella blurted and Gob eyed her owlishly. Then he took notice of the vault suit and grimaced, giving a short chuckled. 

"Heh, you're one of those vault dwellers. I guess you don't see any of my kind much then," Gob rested his hands on the counter. "I'm a ghoul. I had skin as smooth as your once, but radiation happened. Burned my body to shreds. If that doesn't add enough insult to injury, I can't die,"

"You can't die?" Ella blinked in shock and he pursed his ruined lips. 

"Well, not exactly. I can't die of old age. A bullet to the head will kill me just the same. People tend to treat us ghouls differently because we don't look human anymore. I won't argue, I'm not the most pleasant thing to look at, but ignorance is better than the way we get treated... like filthy vermin," 

"Gob, I'm...I'm sorry," Ella whispered softly, feeling pity for the man before her. Gob didn't ask to be this way, and the abuse is a package deal with his condition...on top of defying time. It's a cursed life to live. 

"No worries, smoothskin," He glanced over his shoulder. "Moriarty is heading this way. Go ahead and talk to him, I need to make myself busy," 

"Thank you," Ella muttered and skipped away from the bar, noticing a man with long white hair, a matching beard, and leather clothes was exiting the back room. Ella tripped over to the man, cutting him off in the middle of his path. "Hello," She greeted him and the man gazed the girl up and down. She was  _quite_ the looker. Cornsilk blonde hair bunched at the base of her neck, stray pieces plastered across her sweaty forehead. She had green eyes, the greenest he'd seen in...well, his life. Her face was sprinkled with light freckles across her cheeks and button nose. Before he could ruin business and run out a guest, he cut his eyes wway from venturing any lower, stopping only at her soft lips.... 

"Colin Moriarty, at your service. Welcome to Moriarty's! My saloon, my home, my slice of heaven in this backwoods little burg," He greeted. Ella blinked, wondering what the hell was wrong with his voice. He told so...differently. "If you've got the caps, I've got your pleasure. Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable. Your troubles are thing of the past," 

 _I sincerely doubt that..._ Ella though shrewdly. 

"I'm looking for my dad. I've been told he passed through here. Middle-aged guy," Ella told him curtly. 

That was when recognition shocked the bartender's brain and his jaw dropped a little over an inch, eyes raking over every inch of her now. Instead of the woman, he now saw the small crying bundle of joy...

"My God...it's you!" Moriarty gasped. "The little baby girl, all grown up! Persistent little bastard, ain't ya'? Then and now it would seem," Colin began to chuckle as he scratched his head. "Ella, right? It's been a  while, kid," 

Ella jolted at the sound of her name.  _How had he known me as a baby? We stayed in the vault!_

"Oh, your daddy passed through here, all right. But he's long gone now," Ella knew he was gone, but when Colin confirmed it she couldn't help but grind her teeth in irritation. "Here and gone. Got what he came for and left. I'm assuming you'll do the same, correct?" 

"W-What? My father and I were bother born in Vault 101..." Ella trailed off. Colin began to crack, laughing derisively as he wiped a fake tear from his eye. 

"I-Is that what h-he told you?" He wheezed. "That you were born in that hole? That HE was born there as well? Oh...the lies we tell to those we love," 

"I don't....I don't understand," Ella stammered, her hands shaking nervously as her heart picked up speed. 

"You're father brought you to the vault shortly after you were born. To keep you safe, you see. I remember it well, you see. You stayed in my saloon, after all..." Moriarty enthusiastically told her, secretly enjoying the way the vault girl's face crumbled in horror as ever lie her life was built off came falling apart. " That's right. Your father and his Brotherhood of Steel friend, and you, the suckling babe with nary a tit to suckle. Sorry about your mom, truly," 

"....." Ella was at a loss for words, and Gob couldn't help but curiously glance over and see that vault girl going through what appeared to be the biggest mid-life crisis he had ever seen anyone in that bar go through. 

"Eh, but life goes on. Daddy lied. Life's full of little disappointments. And now...you're all grown up, and wondering where he's gone to..."

"M-My dad t-told me we w-were born in the v-vault..." ELla stumbled through that sentence and Colin's lips tweaked up at the edges with amusement. 

"Ahhh, I see. I heard about the brain washin' that goes on down there. From some other fell that, escaped, oh....five years ago? 'All hail the overseer! We're born in the vault; we die in the vault!' And all that other assorted lunacy. Kid, you've got better programming better than our own Deputy Weld," He implied the protectron guarding Megaton. "You'd better wise up quick. Wouldn't want anyone...takin' advantage of you, hmmm?" 

"I just want to find my dad...if you know where he is, please tell me," Ella begged. Morirarty grinned deviously, wondering how he could possibly extort her. 

"You're a nice kid, so I'm going to be straight with you...You're dad was here, and now he's not. And yes, I know where he went. But what you're asking me for is information, and information is a commodity," 

Ella scowled, immediately kindling hatred for this son of a bitch. He wasn't the first to try and extort money from her, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. However, she wasn't going to discredit his statement. Ella needed to wise up and fast. 

"Let's say a hundred caps," Moriarty offered, waiting for her counter offer...the succession of begging...offering anything but the money she didn't have....

He was startled when her face went blank and she swiveled away from him. No goodbye? Counter offer? Where was she going? Moriarty watched her curiously as she turned curtly on her heel, walking away from him and towards the finely dressed man in the corner. Burke looked up to the woman with lust gleaming in his eyes. "Lover, you're back," 

Colin's eyes nearly dislodged from his skull when he watched the vault dweller smile kindly at him, sugar dripping from the sweet twist of her lips, as she pressed the 10 mm pistol to his head, and without giving the poor sod time to understand what was happening...mercilessly squeezed the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the saloon, blood splattering the wall behind the man. Colin's mouth went dry and settlers scrambled out of the bar screaming in fear. 

The body fell to the ground, blooding pooling on the floor from the head shot. 

"I think I might be able to handle myself, Colin. Mister Burke here," She gave a rough kick to the dead man's shin. "-was planning on blowing up this town by rigging the bomb in town to explode. I don't know about you, but I think that's bad for your business. Consider this a debt, and you now owe me. So where  _is_ my father? I don't want to have to ask again," Her voice was too light, too sweet. Colin felt nauseated. Gob wanted to leap across the counter top and kiss her feet. She tilted her head, that wry smirk still settled on her pink lips. Colin grimaced, gnashing his teeth angrily at the display the girl just put on his saloon. How dare she scare off-

He ripped back to the moment by the sound of a pistol racking and his blood ran cold. 

"Alright, alright, calm down, lass. I'll tell you! He headed southeast! Into the city! Said he needed information from those loonies at the station! You know, Galaxy News Radio, what there is of it," 

"Thank you for your cooperation. I'll be back later," Ella smiled kindly at the bartender who gulped. 

"I thought you'd be running along after your dad now?"

"Hm? Oh, I will. But there are a few jobs I've taken up here in Megaton. I'll be in touch, Moriarty," 

She left after that and Moriarty released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. One thing was for certain, he had never seen anyone in the wasteland wise up so quickly to how things worked... Ella was a dangerous piece of work. And be damned if she wasn't lucky. 


	3. A Month Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella has finally set off once again on her mission to find her father, but ends up at yet another stand still when even Three Dog has a mission for her...one that gets her heavily injured in the ruins of D.C.

It wasn't as if Ella gave up on pursuing her father, but it seemed once people caught wind of the helpful girl from Vault 101, she couldn't find the time to escape Megaton without someone begging her for help. It started with Moira's survival guide, and then Lucy's family in Arefu. Ella returned from the mission with Lucy's brother and an assortment of scrap metal for Walter and decided to test her luck with the undetonated bomb. One snipped wire later, the bomb was harmless as a kitten. Lucas Simms was so grateful, especially after learning how she handled that shady fellow Mister Burke, that he awarded the lone wanderer a home of her own. And  _that_ was when all the work started piling in...and with Ella's luck? The caps came pouring as well. 

Ella had finally planted her foot down and left Megaton, refusing to accept anymore extra work until she found her father. Yet the people of Megaton understood, all of them had taken a shining to the slender girl. She was adapting nicely to the wastes. Her vault suit had been exchanged for a set of leather armor, with an extra hood to shield her sensitive pale face which had been chapped and reddened from the brutal wind and sun. Ella's hair was piled into a clean ponytail on the base of her neck, now a brighter blonde from the sun exposure. She traded out her trusty 10 mm pistol for a larger weapon, a Sniper Rifle. She much preferred the distance than hand to hand combat. 

Not to say she didn't have back up defense. She had small .44 Magnum strapped to her waist she'd picked up after a rather difficult tussle with a raider, and a combat knife she'd found from a pre-war weaponry crate. She usually never had to use those weapons, what with her lucky kill shots. 

So on her way to Galaxy News Radio she was. And she soon realized, while navigating the shambled subway tunnels, how difficult the journey proved when the .44 magnum came out, stopping a feral ghoul dead in its tracks. The light from her Pip-Boy was her only solace as she scavenged and navigated her way through the dark tunnels, debris crunching under her boots. She almost thought she would never witness the light of day again and felt tears of bliss blossom into her eyes when she reached the end of the subway tunnel. 

Yet fate had another trick up it's sleeve as horrid creatures, muscular and sickening green, mutated color were lurking in the nuclear ruins of old D.C. They spoke in a series of grumbles and occasional comprehensible words, but it was mainly about devouring humans. These were the super mutants she had heard rumors about. She picked off three that were engaged in a fire fight with a group of people bedecked in a clunky, metal armor that seemed to swallow their bodies whole. After the last mutant was dead, she was formally introduced to the men and women in armor. 

Sentinel Lyons, a blonde haired woman, was cruel at first but after the fire support Ella offered, Lyons couldn't help but extending the same gratitude to the Lone Wanderer. And so they navigated the ruins together with the group of Brotherhood Knights, Paladins, and Scribes. The Brotherhood was full of over confident meat heads, bragging all the while Ella sniped mutants from tehir guard posts. 

 _Fuck, these ruins are slammed full of these guys..._ Ella growled to herself in reference to the mutants. Lyons didn't make anymore snide comments to the girl, and Ella didn't acknowledge the Brotherhood either. She was simply using then for their protection in her pursuit to find her runaway father. However, when they arrived at the Galaxy News Radio ruins, Ella had her work cut out as mutants had swamped the building. Swinging her rifle around to lay dorman at her back, Ella picked up a discarded assault riffle and did the trusty  _spray and pray_. The tactic was useful to a degree and when the fire fire fight was finished, she darted up the stars to open the doors. As her hand lay on the handle, she heard a blood curdling roar and Ella felt a cloak of icy cold horror settle over her body. 

 _Oh no...what now?_ Ella thought ruefully. The old subway train on the west side of the circle suddenly exploded, and in the rubble stood another mutant...but he was not like the rest. He was massive, wielding a fire hydrant on a light pole, make shift armor strapped to his body...

 _"Watch your partner's six! We've got a behemoth!"_ Ella vaguely heard Sentinel Lyons bellow. The behemoth roared, a awful noise that made Ella cringe as he stormed for the first person he saw, giving a swing of his makeshift club. Vargas was now down for the count...followed by Lyons...followed by-literally every standing member of the brotherhood. How do you even take down something of that size? Is it even possible? You'd need a goddamn nuke-!

Ella's thoughts were jerked to a halt as she noticed the discarded fatman lying next to the fountain. Eyes sharpening, Ella made a mad dash down the stairs, hoisting the weapon onto her shoulder and loaded a nearby, baby nuke into the catipult. Ella made a quick prayer and gave a sharp whistle, the behemoth spinning around as Ella aimed. "Hey, asshole! You missed one! Come get me!" The mutant did just that, closing the distance quicker than Ella thought possible, ground shaking beneath her feet. Her finger squeezed the trigger, the nuke jetting foreward with so much force it sent Ella toppling backward. But the nuke met it's mark, exploding upon impact on the mutants chest, allowing blood and flesh to rain down the square. 

Lyon's stirred to consciousness then, seeing the girl covered in mutant blood and holding the fatman. Ella turned a sharp glare to the Sentinel, eyes digging through Lyon's armor and into her soul. "I would like to speak to Three Dog. Now," 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three Dog was what Ella could closely describe as...a douche bag. Sure, the guy's radio voice was smoother than the sands of the wasteland, but she couldn't help but get the  _cowardly_ vibe from him. Three Dog had heard rumors of Ella, word traveled fast through slow moving caravans. He recognized her on sight when she stepped through his cracked door, eyes set and determined and hands tightly gripping a sniper rifle. Her blonde hair spilled out from the hood that draped her head and she pulled the material down to reveal a pale face, cheeks red and flaking dead skin. 

He formally introduced himself, and Ella grimaced when he began his rant about the good fight. She didn't want to beat around the bush, yet she also didn't want to seem rude. At least, when Three Dog came up for air, Ella spoke. "Please if you know anything about my father, just tell me so I can find him?" 

"You want to find your dad, and it just so happens his location is known to your truly," Three Dog crossed his arms over his chest, a sly edge to his voice. "He was here at Galaxy News. We had a great conversation, he's a real stand up guy. If you want to know more, you're going to have to contribute to the good fight," 

"Contribute," Ella stated dubiously, her face darkening. "I've been contributing all over goddamn Megaton! Just tell me where he's at!"

Three Dog could see the desperation written all over the girl's face. He scratched his head wrap with a heavy sigh. 

"So I'd like to share, I really would, but if I help you, and you just leave me hangin'... I would have failed the Fight. And that can't happen. Dig?"

"You're going to have a good fight on your hands if you don't tell me where he is," Ella growled. "Need I remind you I just took down a behemoth that could have kicked this building down to a pile of gravel?"

"Take it easy, doll, I'm not saying I won't tell you where he's at, I'm saying I need some services done in exchange for the information," Three Dog tried to convince her. "Look, just hear me out. You've heard some of Galaxy News, right? It's good shit. At least, a hell of a lot better than whatever the Enclave is playing!" 

Ella remained quiet and Three Dog took this as his que to continue. 

"I have the name and the talent," He sighed. "But what I don't have are people to run out and do the stuff I need. Sure, the Brotherhood watched over the place, yeah. But that's all they can spare. Galaxy News needs a doer. Someone who can go out there into that wild, wooly world and get shit done. So...you game," 

"Get to the point and I'll get you an answer," Ella grumbled, gripping her rifle extra tight. Three Dog stayed silent and Ella grimaced. "Fine! What is it!"

"Good, 'cause this isn't gonna be easy,"

"Of course it isn't..." Ella sighed tirelessly, laying a feeble hand to her pinkened forehead. 

"Galaxy News is my baby. I love it. I feed it. I keep it changed. But there's one problem: No one outside D.C. can hear her cry," Three Dog stared down at the grimy floor of the news station sullenly. "You see... some brainless super mutant thought it would be funny to shoot at the shiny, round thing on the Washington Monument," Ella had to stifle a laugh until she realized what he was asking. 

"Oh...I see where this is going," She spoke.

"Yep, that shiny thing was our broadcast relay,"

"You want me to fix it?"

"It's not a matter of fixing. The thing is shredded, full of more holes than a mole rate den. It's swiss cheese now. Without it, our broadcast range is quite limited. Of course, the factory that made the relay dishes is long gone. Leveled. As in,  _we're never going to scavenge that part again_ ,"

"I think you've made that fairly clear," Ella sighed and adjusted the gun to lay across her back. "Look, Three Dog, this is starting to sound a little too risky," Ella could only think about the menial tasks she had done back in Megaton and how she narrowly avoided deaths fleeting grasp. This started to seem as though she was flirting with death and she didn't want that kind of compnaionship just yet. 

"It  _is_ risky. I would never lie to you," Three Dog told her as he took a step closer. "But there's something behind those eyes of yours that screams, 'I'm the one who can get shit done'! You're dad had that same look in his eyes. That's why Three Dog's helping you," 

"This really doesn't sound like help," Ella told him flatly as she shifted her weight from side to side. "But I'm in...if it will get you to help me find my dad," 

"One of the Brotherhood guys that passed through here mentioned seeing a dish in one of D.C.'s old museums. It's the dish off of the old Virgo II Lunar Lander in the Museum of Technology. I want you to get it and bring it to the Washington monument to replace the bad one. That's it," 

"If that's it I'll be on my way. Just give me directions," Ella mumbled trying to suck in a calming breath. 

"You're going to be the best things that's ever happened to Galaxy News in a long time,"  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Ella was advised to use the back entrance of Galaxy News to get to the subway tunnels. It was her best best of being able to navigate through the ruins quickly through all the underground links. It as dimly lit, Ella's only solace was the green light from her pip-boy, which she had to turn off as she heard feral snarls and hisses. She cursed heavily, diving into an old abandoned subway car as three ferals shuffled past.  _Those stupid fucking Brotherhood guys! How can they not surrender a few! They have the artillery! And now I'm picking up their slack..._ Ella thought bitterly, swiftly and silently exiting the subway car and crouched down the tunnels. 

Ella almost stepped on a ghoul that was sleeping on the ground and withdrew her gun from her belt, planting it firmly against the rotten skull and pulled the trigger before the ghoul ever knew what hit him. Ella couldn't help but frown at the memory of one of the Knight's bragging about some prostitute he had banged at a settlement down south called Evergreen Mills, and the conversation escalated into a debate of fetishes and kinks. 

_"The Elder's are about to bring down the hammer, man, I heard it myself. No more sleeping around like crazy,"_

_"It's not like crazy! Sometimes you just need to let off a little bit of steam,"_

_"Yeah, but I think he means Sunny. The guy is so determined to fuck everything with two legs he stuck his dick in a ghoul!"_

_"Seriously? Not one of those rotten fuckers! I thought their shit was all torn up and rotten. What's the prognosis, is he gonna live?"_

_"He's fine. Got a nasty itch though,"_

_"Hmph. That what he get's for sticking his dick in one of those zombies,"_

Ella didn't particularly  _like_ hearing ghouls being referred to so callously as rotten zombies. Although she had only ever been around Gob, she didn't find anything wrong with ghouls, well, the non-feral ones that is... 

Ella ducked behind a dumpster as another ghoul came trotting by.  _This is not how I planned to spend the rest of the day..._ Ella thought exasperatedly, a bead of sweat dripping down her face. 

She had been in the subway tunnels for an hour, sneaking and shooting stealthily, trying not to waste too much time scavenging. With her heart thundering in her chest, she made her way up a dormant escalator and followed a few rusted signs when she noticed the light at the end of the tunnel, breaking through the gate that closed off the tunnel system. Quickly, Ella made a break for it, sliding the squeaky gates open and collapsed on her knees out in the fresh cool air of the night. She hated the underground. Ever since she escaped the vault she despised being underground in those moldy, dusty, dank tunnels. 

Looking above, she could see the black velvet sky, dazzled with sparkling stars and an opal full moon. It was breathtaking sigh Ella wished she could never forget and wondered how she had gone her whole life without knowing that this kind of beauty existed outside of the vault. Yes, the wastes were a tragic place to live, but there were finer moments like these she adored. Rising to her feet, Ella began to jog through the ruins, taking careful precaution to keep her down and move quietly. 

Ella stared at the towering monument that she would have to assemble the new dish as she passed it by and paused to evaluate it, standing up rim rod straight. It was huge! How did people make this before the war? It was incredible. Of course, there were parts of the monument missing and it had seen better days, just like the buildings of the mall in ruins. But Ella's wondering left her wide open, and it seemed her luck had begun to run out. There was a haughty victory cry a few yards away in a trench as the hideous yellow face of a super mutant brute entered her vision. His rifle was already pointed at her and she tried to scramble away from his line of fire, but she was too slow. 

There was a sharp burn in her shoulder, and another one in her abdomen. Ella lout out a scream of pain as she dove toward the ruins to her left, away from the monument, bullets nipping at her heels as she flees for safety. She could make out a battered sign that read 'Museum of History'.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ Ella chanted in her head as she tripped down to her knees to crawl toward a door that didn't seem boarded up. But the weight in her right arm and the nauseating twist of the bullet in her gut sent another hiss of pain past her lips. Ella groaned and stumbled to her feet reluctantly, hearing an inquisitive noise not too far away. 

"Smooth skin, you okay?" It was a soft, scratchy voice and Ella eyes were blurry with tears. She knew it was a ghoul, a female ghoul at that. She quickly grabbed at the ghoul's jacket. 

"P-Please, help! Get me out of here before they come to finish me!" Ella begged her. 

"Calm down, I'll get you inside! Hold on," Ella felt the ghoul's arm wrap around her waist and at that moment the adrenaline began to wear off, causing Ella's body to drain of energy. The hot blood was dripping and oozing everywhere. Sleep threatened her vision, her eyelids hung heavy...heavy...and heavier...

"Don't l-let me die," Ella cried softly, her feet dragging sluggishly, knowing that the ghoul was dragging her....there was more gun fire, and a mild curse escaped the ghoul.

"You're not gonna die today, smooth skin, you'll be fine. You're just delirious," The ghoul reassured her...But consciousness began to slowly slip away from Ella bit by bit. Ella could still hear herself begging not to die, and over her own distorted voice she could hear the ghoul yowling for a doctor. 

_I don't want to die yet...please...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! There are probably a lot of grammar errors and messed up words, but I really wanted to go ahead and get this published! I'm so excited because I finally have Charon's contract written out and it looks perfect. I want to go ahead and publish it but alas, there are two more chapters that need to happen. So, the sooner the better! As many of you know, nobody knows any details about Charon's life pre-ghoul, or what is in his contract. So everything I've written is strictly speculation. Let me know what you think!  
> Thanks for the kudos!


	4. The Underworld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella has regained consciousness in the clinic of the Ninth Circle. Doc Barrows has advised she take it easy for the night and hire some help to have a chance at surviving the Museum of Technology. So the Lone Wanderer has found herself in the Ninth Circle...

_"I say I'll move the mountains, and I'll move the mountains... if he wants them out of the way..."_  

Ella's body began to twitch, her hands fisting the thin sheets her body lay on. Conscious thought began to creep back into her mind.... Gunshots, the screaming, her screaming....

_"So I'm crazy, crazy in love I'd say..."_

Ella awoke with a gasp, her eyelids flying open and her body tried to roll onto her feet. There was a shout of objection from a gravelly voice nearby and she was shoved back onto the bed. Her vision was a collection of blurring lights and shapes, her heatbeat flying in her chest as she struggled to eascape this strange dimension of growing awareness and anxiety. The past month in the Wasteland had finely tuned her flight instinct and she was hell bent on using it. 

"Smooth skin, calm down! I don't want to use my Calmex! That shit ain't cheap!" 

Ella found herself pinned, her instincts screaming that she needed to escape. But as her thrashing was limited, slowly her vision began to settle and her heart beat slowed. The room she was in was fitted with hospital beds and curtains, even silver surgical trays. Behind her was a long window covered in an old, pre-war chain link fence,, and on the otherside were little glowing columns of energy that seemed to move...they almost looked humanoid... _were those feral ghouls? Why were they glowing like glow sticks?_

"Feeling better yet?" A different voice spoke, and Ella noticed the radiation burned arms holding her down belonged to a female ghoul, She had remnants of red hair sticking out from her head and grimey, stained tank top and cargo pants set. 

"W-Where am I?" Ella whispered frantically. 

"Relax, smooth skin. You're in the Underworld. Willow brought you in after you threw yourself on her," The female ghoul reassured her, loosening her grip on the girl. "Looks like you had a nasty run in with the muties. What's your name?"

"Ella..."

"Ella, huh? Well It's nice to meet you. I'm Nurse Graves. And the man who pulled the bullet out of your gut and shoulder is Doc Barrows," Nurse Graves introduced, allowing the girl to sit up slowly. The ghould named Doc Barrows appeared from behind the curtain, dressed similarly to Nurse Graves. The same, flesh shriveled, burned face and hollow nasal cavity as every other ghoul she had seen. Even the ferals. But there was still the humanity that lingered in his features, and gratitude filled the vault dweller. 

"Th-Thank you, thank you so much," Ella gushed gratefully, bowing her head. But ghouls exchanged stunned glanced. 

"You're welcome, smooth skin. Never received this much gratitude and politeness from a human before," Doc Barrows grunted. "Look, you seem nice enough, consider this on the house. Just don't go getting shot up anymore, alright?"

"I won't," 

"You'll also need to try and make yourself comfortable here," Nurse Graves continued, capturing Ella's attention. "Try and give it a day or two before you head out again. Stimpacks only restore tissue so fast,"

"What were you doing in the mall ruins any how?" Doc asked curiously, folding his arms across his chest. "Scavvers don't  come this far and you don't look like you're with the Brotherhood," 

"I'm running an errand for Three Dog," Ella mumbled, staring down at her lap. She now noticed she was missing the top half of her armor, and had been wrapped from her bicep down to her belly button in gauze and medical tape. "He needs a new dish for the radio station. The mutants shot up the one that's on the monument right now. I was trying to go to the Museum of Technology. That's where another relay disk is,"

"Willow said she's seen mutants coming in and out of that museum for a while now. There's probably a horde of them set up in there. You really think you can do this on your own?" Doc Barrows asked doubtfully and Ella grimaced. "If you got the caps, I'm sure you can probably hire somebody to take you there and watch your back. You'll at least have a fighting chance," 

"Where should I look?" Ella asked and Nurse Graves left them to sit at her computer and answered from afar...

"Check out Carol's place, or the Ninth Circle. Carol or Ahzrukhal 'ought to know something," 

"Hmph, she should avoid Ahzrukhal if she knows what's good for her," Doc snorted. "The mans a snake," 

"If it comes down to it, Carol is more straight forward with her info, but Ahzrukhal knows more. He takes some bartering to get info from. Or, you could just avoid it all together and try your hand at the museum solo, although, I don't think you would survive that," 

"The Ninth Circle?" Ella tested the name out. "Why do they call it that?"

"A lot of ghouls are pre-war," Doc explained. "The name has some deep, literature meaning. Named after the Ninth Circle of hell in a book caled  _Dante's Inferno_ or something. The details are vague. it's been more than a hundred years since I've read that," 

"Well...I suppose I could try Carol first," Ella didn't like the idea of venturing into hell to find answers to her problems...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Charon grunted, leaning against his corner in the Ninth Circle, his milky eyes gazing around the room watchfully. There had been residents drifting in and out all day, and Snowflake had just left with his jet he bought off of Ahzrukhal. Speaking of his employer, Ahzrukhal was standing behind the bar wiping down the mess from a spilled drink. Charon glared at his employer harshly, internally wishing he could kill the sick, son of bitch so badly. Of all his employers, Ahzrukhal was the worst. But he would never admit this aloud. Charon was honor bound to the sick man and that was all there was to it. His contract was simple, and there were only four rules. But Ahzrukhal was a snake, and found loop holes in those rules. 

There were times Charon had been without food for days, even weeks. 

There were times Charon had been ordered not to fight back as he was beaten mercilessly by drunkards or mercs that Ahzrukhal had hired. 

And there were times that Ahrukal had shamed Charon's morality as man...It had been years since the incident when the escaped slave girl had entered the underworld, and Ahzrukhal had decided to have his way with the emotional girl. He had bound the girl, and ordered Charon to hold her still as he took the slave girl again, and again, and again...even telling Charon to cover her mouth to muffle her screams. Charon despised Ahzrukhal with every bone in his body, and his hatred grew more malignant day by day. Because after Ahzrukhal had raped the slave girl, he ordered Charon to kill her. Honor bound, Charon could not refuse... 

Charon was not ignorant, he knew he was ghoulified and looked like a monster under the bed. But he felt more and more like that monster every day he spent in Ahzrukhal's employ. After all, Ahzrukhal had held his contract the longest. His employer wasn't stupid, and was aware of Charon's hatred. So Ahzrukhal taunted him daily, using the contract as a shield. But Charon had accomplished a blank poker face, the most stoic and emotionless mask had been permanently settled into the body guard's gruesome face. He would not give Ahzrukhal the satisfaction of knowing his displeasure....

As if sensing Charon's heated gaze, Ahzrukhal turned to award Charon a slimy grin, but Charon had already averted his stare. 

Right on que, Patchwork stumbled into the bar, evoking Charon and Ahzrukhal's attention. Patchwork had been a ghoul the longest and refused to take care of himself, drowning his liver in vodka and filling his lungs with jet. Different ghouls had found parts of Patchwork lying all over the Underworld and had to give them to Doc Barrows so he could sew them back on Patchwork when sobriety hit the ghoul. Ahzrukhal sighed as Patchwork stumbled to a barstool and accidentally the radio, turning it off. 

"Goddammit, Patchwork! Turn the radio back on!" Ahzrukhal snarled at the drunkard who made no move to fix his mistake. "Charon," Charon leaned off the wall and swung his shotgun around. Patchwork moved quickly to fix the radio. "Now, what can I do for you, Patchwork? Surely you have the caps to pay for your drinks this time?" Ahzrukhal spoke slightly more chipper as soon as Three Dog's voice filled the room, the Jazzy Interlude following the disc jockey's voice. The bartender was more than surprised to see caps fly across the counter, a wry smile on Patchwork's face. 

"Vodka, as many as that'll *hic* get me," He slurred and Ahzrukhal grimaced. 

"Now Patchwork, I know you're a, er, good man. So tell me, you have not lowered yourself to...stealing?" 

"No way!" Patchwork scoffed, swaying slightly on the stool. "There's a smooth skin in the U-Under *burp*, oh god," He trailed off to heave for a moment sickeningly. "-the Underworld. Willow broughter' in," 

"Really?" Ahzrukhal inquired a bit to curiously, setting a bottle of vodka in front of the drunkard. Charon didn't like the inquistive tone. He knew it had been many years since that slave girl, and Ahzrukhal was probably itching for another piece of ass. Ahzrukhal tried to pry more information from the ghoul but Patchwork was knee deep in the alcohol now, leaving Ahzrukhal grimacing in distaste. 

The bar was calm and quiet, Patchwork asleep on the counter top  as the lulling voice of Jack Shaindlin was serenading the the boozy bar.  _"-let's go sunning, beneath the sky of blue..._ " 

The door to the Ninth creaked open... and Charon allowed his eyes filmy eyes to flicker in the direction of the person entering to acknowledge that he was aware of their presence. But timidly entering the bar was a small girl. She had long, curly cornsilk blonde hair that spilled down her back and across her shoulder, framing her heart shaped face. And there was no radiation burns on her skin, just pale smooth skin and pink sun burns on her cheeks and reddened her nose. Her lithe body was clad in leather armor and he could make out the gauze that peeked out from her armor of her right arm. He hadn't seen such a pure looking smooth skin in a while, and when she turned to look at him, Charon was greeted with a rush of pre-war memories...green grass, blossoming garden flowers, and earthy trees...

"Oh! I'm sorry, you startled me. I didn't see you standing there," The smooth skin breathed a laugh and Charon noted how soft-spoken her voice was yet smoky. "Maybe you can help, I'm-,"

"No," The words were ripped from Charon's lips. "Go talk to Ahzrukhal," It made the bone under his skin tingle as the orders forced his unwilling response. Ahzrukhal had specifically ordered Charon not to speak to anyone who entered the bar unless his employer awarded him permission to do so. Otherwise, he was to point all guests to the direction of the bar. 

There was a glimmer of confusion in her green eyes as she fumbled for words. "Yeah, but..." 

"Talk. To. Ahzrukhal," 

"I just need to-,"

"Don't make me say it again," Charon growled and he watched the alarm shoot across the smooth skin's face as she took a lengthy step back. 

Ella had left Carol's with little to no help and sought out the Ninth Circle. When she entered, Ella noticed that the bar was a lot nicer than what Carol had going on at her place. It was cozy, but she felt uncomfortable as she stared at the sickening ghoul behind the counter. She was never one to judge a book by it's cover, but he was the first  _greening_ ghoul she had seen in her travels. He looked simply haunting. Ella had allowed her eyes to skirt the room and she nearly jumped out of her own skin at the close proximity of a ghoul leaning against the wall... 

He was massive. The largest being she had seen, man or ghoul. He breached over six foot and his face was gnarled with missing flesh, his nose as hollow as every other ghoul. He had thick patches of red hair that still clung to his scalp and a combat shot gun was strung tightly against his back. He was clad in a metal armor and over all looked, quite frankly, threatening. 

"Ah, a new customer? Please, come in," Charon ripped his eyes away from the very fragile looking girl as Ahzrukhal lay his filthy eyes upon her.... Ella's green eyes flickered towards the rotting ghoul behind the bar and she approached him in four confident strides. "Excellent, another customer," 

"Are you Ahzrukhal?" Ella asked him and the ghoul leered at her with a lascivious grin. 

"It depends on who's asking?" The ghoul had the most disgusting voice she had ever heard. His breath rattled as if he needed to have a good cough to loosen the phlegm in his lungs, and his voice was like listening to nails on a chalkboard. 

"The name is Ella. And I was told you're the one to come to for information," Ella made sure to speak harshly, making her voice more stern than she normally speaks. She'd heard too much bad about this man and she didn't want to get roped into any evil schematics of his. 

"Yes, I happen to know a lot that goes on down here. Please, relax for a moment," Ahzrukhal set a beer upon the counter top in front of Ella and she stared at it warily for a moment. 

"I don't want to buy a drink right now," 

"On the house," Ahzrukhal shrugged and Ella smiled. 

"So...it's mine?"

"Of course," Ella picked up the beer and slid it down to Patchwork, watching as Ahzrukhal's face soured. "You'll forgive me for being cautious about who I accept my drinks from, Ahzrukhal. I don't want to find myself bound and kidnapped after one lousy drink," 

_That was the point..._  Ella could tell Ahzrukhal was thinking with disappointment.

"Yes, well, if you won't buy anything then I'll have to ask you to leave. I am running a business, after all. I'd advise you heed my warning. After all, I don't want to have to ask Charon to escort you out," Ahzrukhal sent Charon a smirk and Ella glanced backward at the massive ghoul and pursed her lips. 

"That's his name? Charon? What's his deal, anyhow?" Ella asked Ahzrukhal who turned his attention back to the pretty young smooth skin. 

"That's Charon. Let's just say...well, he's a loyal employee," He chuckled darkly and Ella felt her stomach roll at the underlying innuendo she couldn't quite interpret. "Don't mess with me, and he won't mess with you," 

"He's a loyal employee? What does that mean?" Ella asked, watching as Patchwork stirred to consciousness for moment to accept the random gift that spawned out of no where and skulled the beer. 

"I hold his contract, which makes me his employer. He will do what I ask, when I ask. Without question," Ahzrukhal explained. "You see, Charon grew up around a very  _interesting_ group of individuals. They...well, I guess you could say they brain washed him. He is absolutely loyal to whoever holds his contract. Unfailing, unflinching, until the day that employment ends," 

As the horrendous ghoul spoke, she felt a firm bout of nausea plant itself in her stomach.  _Brain washed?_ Ella knew all too well about brain washing. Not knowing that there was a world around that existed outside of the world you were trained to know and forced to love and live. As Ahzrukhal spoke, she glanced back at the towering ghoul in the corner, her heart twinging a bit as she stared at the man. Yes, man. How is it fair to call someone who used to be human a crude title like  _ghoul._ It wasn't fair. The  _ghouls_ didn't ask to be ghoulified. And Charon certainly didn't seem to be any exception to that statement. Only this man was enslaved to a contract....a contract that kept him honor bound to this disgusting snake....

"Don't get me wrong, I have no doubt that he holds no end of animosity towards me. But so long as he is my employee, he is as gentle as a teddy bear," 

"So he's your slave," Ella spat out with distaste, her lip curling at the accusation. Ahzrukhal flinched backward and folded his arms across his chest defiantly, his filmy eyes flaming with offense. 

"No, he is not!" Ahzrukhal objected. "Ma'am, you insult me! I do not believe in slavery. It is an abomination. I am a firm believer in personal choice. To force another person into bondage is unthinkable. Chains are earned, never forced. Charon made some choices that landed him in my employ. The matters of his contract are between him and I-- no one else," 

_It still sounds a hell of a lot like slavery if not something more sick..._ Ella thought wryly. Instead of saying that, she merely remarked, "He doesn't say much, does he?" 

At that, Ahzrukhal laughed boisterously, leaning onto the bar top and holding it for support. "His company is rather refreshing, isn't it? But don't mistake his brevity for stupidity. That would be very unwise. Underestimating an opponent has been the mistake of far too many individuals throughout history," 

"And what exactly does he do for you?" Ella asked through slightly clenched teeth. But Ahzrukhal danced around the question like a fly evading a swatter. 

"Watches over the bar. Keeps the drunks in line. Pretty much I point at something, and Charon hurts it," And there was the jaded comment that pinned the last nail in the coffin for Ella. "He's the best thug a corrupt bartender could ever ask for. He never bothers me with his own annoying sense of morality,"

He admits to being corrupt. He doesn't disguise his disgusting and evil personality and owns up to being a snake. Ella hypothesized, no, she  _knew_ that Charon was miserable. She didn't know how long Charon had been in Ahzukhal's ownership, pardon,  _employ_ , but she knew after just five minutes it was enough. After all, Charon might express some gratitude and help Ella get the new dish for Galaxy News. The guy looked like he could really handle himself. 

"I want to talk to you about Charon's contract," 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? I will be including Charon's contract in the next update. So please be on the lookout for the next update!!!


	5. Crazy He Calls Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella has now purchased Charon's contract, but her plans of setting him free go awry. Has Ella now ended up with a ghoul manservant? Quote unquote.

There was a disgusting glimmer that passed through Ahzrukhal's eyes after Ella announced her interest in Charon's contract. Now, he was trying to figure out the many different way he could extort money or  _services_ from the pretty young thing. Ella was no fool. She could tell that the wheels were spinning in Ahzrukhal's sick mind. But her decision was made and she would take Charon's contract. He didn't deserve to live in that snake's disgusting 'employ' any longer. 

"Oh? Would you now? He is a highly valuable asset to me and to the Ninth Circle. What did you have in mind?" 

"A thousand caps, up front," Ella offered, pulling out her sack of caps she kept stashed in her armor. 

"You're kidding, right?" Ahzrukhal laughed derisively. "Come back when you have a serious offer...or, if money is tight for you, I'm sure we can work out a deal?" 

Ella felt his eyes linger on her body and she grimaced and pulled out her secondary stash. 

"Two thousand caps, or is a piece of ass worth more to you than a shit ton of caps that can improve your business?" 

Ahzrukhal would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised she had so many caps. He quickly went over mental math. Slaves as pretty as Ella would go for five hundred caps, maybe eight hundred if the caps were good enough...and after defiling her the price could drop. Not to mention the risks he'd have to through to take her to Paradise Falls...Two thousand caps was more than enough. He'd just go beat his rotten dick later while bathing in the caps. And he'd think about Ella while he did it. The one that got away....

"I suppose that could work," Ahzrukhal scratched his decaying scalp. "Yes. Yes..." He reached in his business suit and withdrew an envelope. it was browning with age and stained with dirt, grime, and -was that dried blood?! "Here's the contract. And I'll accept my payment in full," Ella nudged the cap stashes over to Ahzrukhal who transferred her the flimsy envelope. He grinned and greedily began to pour the caps out and counted them. "I'll give you the pleasure of informing him yourself," 

Ella smiled and hopped off the bar stool, spinning around to face the ghoul lying against the wall. She approached him and sent Charon a dazzling smile. 

"Hey, Charon," She greeted and his milky eyes fell upon her. 

"Talk to-," He began crudely and Ella cut him off with a series of tuts. 

"Uh-uh, none of that now," She shook her head, her curly blonde hair flying across her shoulders. "Just slow down. I have good news. I'm your new employer," 

"You...purchased my contract from Ahzrukhal?" Charon stated, his stoic voice rising a bit with disbelief. This tiny female had the means of obtaining his contract from Ahzrukhal? Charon found it hard to believe. Yet, there she stood, his contract clutched tightly in her small hand. "So, I am no longer in his service...that is good to know," And finally, Charon was not bound by the rules of his contract to respect Ahzrukhal, and harming him was no longer and impossibility. "That is good to know. Please, wait here. I must take care of something,"  

Ella was mildly surprised when Charon brushed by her and she spun around, the words dying in her throat when she saw he was approaching his old employer. Was he bidding him farewell?

"Ahzrukhal," Charon spoke, ripping the bartender's attention from the caps he was counting on the bar top. The ghoul gave a sickening smirk as he stood to face his former employee. "I am told that I am no longer in your service," 

"That's right, Charon, have you come to say good-bye?" Ahzrukhal asked with an annoying amount of feigned innocence. 

"Yes," Suddenly, the combat shot gun was off of Charon's back and was being brandished in his hands. Ahzrukhal was staring down the barrel of the gun and with barley a second to understand what was happening, two painfully loud shots fired from the shotgun, Ahzrukhal's head was reduced to a bloody stump as fragments of tissue and gore splattered the bar. There were frightened screams as ghoul residents scrambled around to locate the assaulter. Many watched Charon warily, and Ella wouldn't lie and say he jaw hadn't completley unhinged. Charon faced her now. 

"Alright, let's go," Charon spoke soundly. Ella let out a small squeak, her hands fumbling in the air for moment. 

"W-Woah, what the fuck was that?!" She exclaimed. "I knew he was a rotten son of a bitch, but-,"

"Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. So long as he held my contract, I was honor bound to do as he commanded. But now you are my employer, which freed me to rid the world of that disgusting rat. And now, for good or ill, I serve you," 

Ella closed her mouth as her suspicions were confirmed. The ghouls were gathered around the bar, whispering with horror at the gruesome mess that lay before them. 

"I see. Charon, perhaps we need to discuss this contract in privacy. Would you mind helping me evacuate the bar?" She asked him and he nodded, staring at the ghouls that were watching. 

"Get the fuck out," He snarled, racking his shot gun. That noise alone sent every last resident scrambling out the door. And now, there was silence in the Ninth. All but the hum of music from Galaxy News Radio.  _Easy Living_ was lulling softly and Ella walked behind the bar, making sure to step on a piece of Ahzrukhal's obliterated skull, and she eased the volume down a pinch. Charon took a seat on one of the bar stools and felt a small glimmer of content that Ahzrukhal was not bitching about the radio being touched. 

Ella pocketed her two thousand caps again and searched Ahzrukhal's corpse for anything that could not go to waste. She found his storage key and cracked open the fridge to reveal a plethora of chems and alcohol. She salvaged the chems to resale and pulled out a bottle of brandy and two glasses. She poured the two glasses and offered one to Charon who accepted it from his new  _generous_ employer. Yet he maintained his hesitance mentally. He hadn't been in the employ of a woman in a very long time and the details of his last female employer were very vague, but he recalled feelings of dislike. He despised all of his employers as far back as he could remember, and the coals of hatred for his new employer were still warm, slowly being stoked.

"So, Charon," Ella began after she took a swig of the alochol and coughed slightly. "I figured we should share a celabratory drink that Ahzrukhal is no longer your employer...or even alive, that is," She mumbled the last part as she rotated her glass. Charon manned a swallow from his glass without so much as a flinch. He appreciated the burn in his throat. 

Charon maintained his silence. Ella grimaced and pulled out his contract and stared at the weathered envelope...before she did the unthinkable. 

"Here," She thrust the contract at him and his milky eyes widened to their max. The coals of hatred were doused, growing cold for a moment, but only a moment. Why was she trying to give him his contract? Was it pity? Was she taunting him? No...And then he scowled, leaning away from the envelope. 

"I cannot accept that, mistress," 

She rolled her eyes. "There's no need to act so humble, you deserve your freedom-,"

"It is not an act of humbling, mistress," He cut her off respectfully, his face glaring at her. "I simply cannot accept the contract. This is all there is to it," 

"What?" She demanded blandly, lowering the paper. "Why the hell not?" Charon glowered at his contract before grabbing his glass and raising it to his ruined lips. 

"Perhaps you should read the details of my contract to understand my employment better," He suggested, his annoyance growing more heated for the young girl. He had been employed before by a woman, yes, but never by someone so young. She looked barley older than a teenager. His new mistress looked kind and sweet, and he couldn't pin why that got under what was left of his skin in all the wrong ways. He would be taking orders from what he considered a child. 

"...Fine," She grumbled, and Charon took a sip of his brandy, watching as she opened the envelope and withdrew a familiar sheet of paper. It, too, was weathered and aged by the years. It was stained and grimy, ripped and crumpled, and looked as though it might fall apart at the slightest touch to the flimsy paper. Ella's green eyes began to read, widening at the title of his contract....

 **Operation: "Obolus"**  
**Conducted by the United States Armed Forces**  
**Est. 20750505**  
**Contract Effective: 20770101**

 **The Individual has willingly subjected themselves to the experimental operation known "Obolus" in the pursuit of creating more combat-able and ready soldiers, marines, airmen, and sailors. The individual signed shall from here on be known as** **Charon** **. The individual signed has sworn to uphold the constitution, obey the orders appointed over him/her, and to serve humanity without fail.**

 **Alias: Charon  
Age: 27**  
**Military Branch:** U.S. Army

  * **Sub. Info: 787 Echo**



****MOS: Military Police  
Title/Rank: Sergeant** **

~~****** *Medical* ** ** ** ~~

~~~~********Hair: Red********  
**Eyes: Light Blue**  
 **Height: 6"6" (198.12 cm.)**  
 **Weight: 215 lb. (97.522 kg)**

**~~********Comments and Notes: Physical checks out clean. Subject: Healthy** ** ** ** ~~ **

************The ownership of Charon 's employment contract falls to a one (CSM) Leonard James Hawke. Should the employer become incapacitated, the contract shall fall to the next ranking officer, or, person of choosing. While the contract is in the possession of the employer, Charon is honor bound to follow the orders of the employer without fault, unless, they conflict the following ** ** ** ** ** **

  1. **Violence between employer and employee resulting in termination of contract.**
  2. **Knowingly sending employee to certain/uncertain death.**
  3. **The unwanted sexual use of the employee.**
  4. ****Ordering the employee to cause harm to any person(s) in the United States Military.****



********If contract should come into the employee's possession, he/she will fulfill their duties of servitude to humanity, allowing the contract to call to the citizens of the United States of America. The employee cannot, however, willingly take their contract unless the employer is incapacitated and there are no available persons to take over the contract. Should any questions arise, call the following number: ~~1 (800) ########~~ Details of the employees contract are on file in the administrative building of The Pentagon. The files include records, holotapes, and reports of the named individual  Charon.   
** ** ** **

**********Signed,**********  
**Harvey Goodacre President of the Unites States of America**  
** Grady Beauregard Secretary of Defense**  
** Cato De Bari Administrative Director**  
** Leonard James Hawke Employer**  
** Charon Employee**

**************~~_"You who owns Charon's services exercise EXTREME caution. It is his labor you own, not himself. Do NOT mistake the two."_~~** ** ** ** ** ** **

********************~~~~ ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

 

And so Ella stared at the flimsy material in her hands, feeling as though she was holding the equivelance to the wieght of the world in her hands. Because she now held a person's life in her care, with no clue of how to undo what she had done. She  _owned_ someone. Even if the word was considered incorrect and taboo, it didn't make the situation any less true. What she assumed was a good deed had no turned into an act of high class, quote unquote, slavery. All she needed to do was point and it would be done, whatever  _it_ was. Ella chanced a look at the ghoul who was now sitting calmly and quietly, his milky eyes now trained on his new mistress as if trying to decipher her in the same ways she was trying to understand him. 

 

 

This was a ghoul who had lived centuries before she was even a passing thought in the wind. He had a soul, no matter how broken it might be. And even before the bombs had dropped, Charon had been enslaved to the contract...to the employer...and now, to her. Ella settled with vocalizing the main question that crowed her brain as she stared at the haunting piece of paper.

 

"Charon...did you sign this in your blood?"

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG TO PUBLISH THIS CONTRACT OML AND YES IT IS ALL 100% ORIGINAL AND YOU MAY THINK THAT IT'S CRAP BUT IT IS MY THEORY/FANTASIZING IDEA OF WHAT CHARON'S CONTRACT LOOKS LIKE AND HOW HE CAME INTO HIS CONTRACT. Any questions? make sure to ask! Next update in a few days!


	6. Easy Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella now has Charon's help in clearing a path through the museum of technology, proving to the ghoul just how she had survived so far in the Wastes. While Charon is still trying to understand his growing hatred for his new mistress, Ella lays down some ground rules about his contract and what she expects from him as a companion.

Charon had confirmed Ella's question with a curt nod, expecting her to unleash a rampage of questions that he would have to deflect. His past involving his employers was vague, and everything behind the bright light of a nuclear detonation was like trying to navigate through thick mud. Charon's memory dwindled, and trying to fret upon the past only irritated him. Ahzrukhal, and employers before him, had tried to get Charon to converse about the past, but Charon always declined since not even the orders could unveil what Charon had forgotten. 

So he was mildly surprised when Ella swallowed the rest of her brandy and left the bar, gesturing for him to follow. She made her way to Carol's bar and set up in a room that she had rented. 

"I will stand watch," Charon had to say to break the silence. Ella barely glanced at him as she nodded, kicking off her boots.

"Do whatever you want, Charon," He was a bit startled by the even, tired tone of her voice. "Wake me up when you get tired and we can trade spots," 

Charon had watched her as she lay down on top of the covers, her back turned to him as she slowly drifted off. Charon actually had permission to sleep? To wake up his employer and take her spot while she rleieved him of sentry duties? It seemed so...unethical. Everything he had become accustomed to was conflicted with the proposition his new, young, employer had presented him. So he sat in the stained, ruined, upholstered chair in the corner, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Here they were testing the waters of the contract, poking and prodding each other to get a feel for this new employment. He could feel the contract binding his body in a vice grip, but these strange little pure feelings he felt while looking at this girl constructed of the finest materials of innocence, it evoked feelings of annoyance. Perhaps that was what was stoking the fires of his hatred? She looked utterly helpless. This would be similar to babysitting...but if she really was helpless, then why would she waltz into the Mall ruins and be at such peace in the Underworld? 

In fact, for a smooth skin, why was she not spitting hateful words at him? Why did she not gaze at him with the same level of disgust she had stared at Ahzrukhal? Charon was a massive speciemn of a ghoul which meant more ruined skin to hate and seeth angry words at. Why was she treating him like he wasn't some hideous soul that clambered out of the deepest depths of hell, skin broiled, burned and ruined by the temperature of Satan's hell fire. 

He hated her because he didn't understand her...but that couldn't be it. No, Charon would not concern himself with such meager thoughts right now. They had time to get adjusted to this new partnership and if time would allow, then he would perhaps understand his employers antics a little better. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Morning came and Ella awoke with a guttural groan that would wake the dead as she stretched out her arms as wide as they could go. She lay there, her brain still numb and enjoying the remnants of her anesthesia-like slumber when the thin barrier holding back the memories from yesterday gave way and Ella had shot upright in bed, staring at the massive ghoul in the corner, still sitting in the chair. 

"Charon," Ella gasped. "Y-You never woke me up! Did you get tired?"

Charon noted how her smoky voice was thick with sleep, cracking slightly. He scowled and shook his head. "My job is too important for rest, mistress, your well being is top priority," 

"Charon, I'm not sure how this  _ordering_ business goes, but sleep is pretty crucial. If you are going to work for me," Ella cringed. "Then I need you in peak condition. Sleep when I tell you to sleep next time," 

He wasn't sure what he hated more. The fact that he had just received his first order, or that she placing his well-being over his own like some kind of saint. Or maybe it was the tiny, miniscule fact he felt a glimmer of guilt for not listening to her... He despised the act of kindness so much. 

"As you wish, mistress," He resonded as she was lacing up her boots. Ella grimaced, scrunching up her sun burnt nose. 

"And don't call me mistress, my name is Ella," She stood up to stare him in the eyes. "We will address each other as equals," 

Although the order was weird, he had only ever formally addressed his employers, he couldn't deny the bit of relief at not having to speak to a child like an esteemed, seasoned woman. Ella brushed by Charon as he rose to his feet and he caught a whiff of her scent...gunpowder and something warm and sweet...

Ella bought two boxes of sugar bombs from Greta and gave one to Charon, keeping one for herself as they chowed down. He couldn't lie, this was the most food he had had in over three months. And then they left the Underworld together, ghouls watching them tenatively. When the fresh crisp air of the autumn morning brushed against their faces, Ella paused to stare up at the sky, a small smile stretching across her face. Only now did Charon take the opportunity to gaze the young girl over and found a sniper rifle strapped tightly against her back and her right hand was wrapped in a small, familair computer he knew to call a pipboy. 

"I love the sky," Ella spoke softly, her smoky voice swept up in the wind. She was a pretty smooth skin, Charon had to admit. But he still wanted to know why she looked so pure and untouched by the Wastes. 

"Well, well, smooth skin. I'm glad to see you not pouring blood," A scratchy voice chuckled and Ella whipped around to see the sentry of the Underworld, Willow. Charon's hand unconsciously patted his shot gun.

"You must be Willow," Ella spoke with a grin and offered her a hand. "My names Ella. Thank you so much for saving me," 

"Not a problem. I see you've acquired Charon's services?" Willow noted, sending the ghoul body guard a once over. 

"Ahzrukhal's greed was his downfall," Ella shrugged. 

"I see. Well, I'll let you be on your way. Try not to get shot up, okay?"

"No promises," Ella chuckled as she nodded at Charon. 

The journey began as Ella left the Museum of history further in her wake, Charon's eyes watching the ruins like a hawk. There was gunfire crackling in the distance and Charon swung his shot gun around, scowling when he noticed his mistress was casually still strolling through the debris like it was a simple walk in the park. He could hear footsteps, heavy footfalls that didn't belong to him or his mistress...He swung his shotgun around, only to watch as a frag grenade fell into a trench a few yards off. There was an inquisitve grunt and suddenly the xplosion rocked the ruins. 

Ella smiled smugly at her arm. "That was one of my nicest throws! Hey!" She giggled as Charon stared down at his young employer. "The Museum of Tehcnology is just ahead, mind giving me some cover?"

"Yes, mis-Ella," The orders corrected him quickly. Ella slipped in through the museum doors and Charon followed deftly after her. However, upon entry Charon almost rammed directly into Ella's back. He glared down at her and looked up to see a yellow mutant stomping toward them. Charon rose to his full height and ripped his shotgun around to point at the mutant and walked around Ella as the mutant began to tuck the butt of the gun into its shoulder. Ella shrieked, diving out the way as gunfire peppered the back wall. Yet Charon stared into the face of death without any sign of fear as he racked his shotgun and fired off two blasts, and the mutant crumpled. 

"Jesus, I didn't expect one to be so close as soon as we walked in!" Ella hissed, her hand lying on her chest to calm her racing heart. 

"Are you all right, Ella?" Charon asked as she shakily stood up and nodded. Charon was a little uncomfortable referring to her so loosely, but it fit.

"Fine. Perfectly fine," She gazed around the ruins of the Museum with furrowed brows and began to to gnaw on her bottom lip. "We have a great deal of cover...we may could use stealth to our advantage," 

"Shot guns are not stealthy," Charon grunted and Ella's face went bleak. 

"Ah, I glazed over that for a second," She mumbled. "Well...I guess that leaves only one option,"

The ghoul body guard grunted. 

"Survive," She grinned and like a bat out of hell, took off running like a bat out of hell. If Charon's skin could have paled, he would have gone white as he watched her dart up the stairs giggling like a madwoman. She disappeared around the threshold of a door frame. Charon was spurred into action as he heard guttural yells and more loud gunfire. Was his employer psychotic?! Did she have a death wish?! Charon began to run around the corner when a bullet whizzed by his head and he was forced to duck for cover. Then, a supermutant fell dead at his feet, Ella perched upon his back with a combat knife deep in the base of his neck. 

"Come on, while they're distracted!" She hissed. 

 _By what-?_ Suddenly there was a loud blast and Charon peered around to watch the foundation around three mutants explode and crumble in a cloud of smoke, debris, and fire. "I used the last of my frag grenades, now let's get moving!" 

Ella had to admit, having Charon around was a huge relief. He watched her back and took down anyone, or thing, that came close. If she said fall back, he'd fall back. If she said to charge forward, he'd charge forward. Otherwise, he kept true to his contract and defended her with every ounce of strength he had in his body. There was only once when I mutant got too close, and his sledgehammer impacted her rib cage with diluted force as Charon caught the mutant's arm in his bicep and forearm, and lay the barrel of the shot gun upon the mutant's head and swiftly pulled the trigger. 

Charon still hadn't quite figured out Ella's fighting style. She was haphazard, shooting at random points and causing more destruction that a tiny bullet should cause. There was no rhyme or rhythm, no method to the madness. He could tell she preferred distance but she was not afraid to get up close and personal, so long as she was undetected by the enemy. She was, quite literally, an artist at the spray and pray method. And now, staring at the dish, Ella and Charon took a moment to catch their breath as the gauged the situation. 

Six mutants, one a ring leader. 

Charon awaited his next orders and glanced at his mistress, narrowing his eyes when he saw her withdraw a pistol from her waistband. 

"I'm going to go with my gut," Ella stated. "And If I'm right, I'll make short work of this," 

_What is she going to do with that pea shooter?_

"I'm out of .308 rounds," She soundly spoke as she counted the rounds she dropped in the revolver and clicked it into place. "You look like you have something to say," She noted without glancing at him. 

"If I may, all that pistol is going to do is piss off those mutants," Charon spoke respectfully as she stood up and walked forward. Standing at the balcony railing she aimed up at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Suddenly the roofing came crashing down, support beams, splintering wood, and roofing buried three mutants alive, silence their yells. Another mutant had spotted Ella and came rushing for the stair case. Ella pointed the gun at his foot falls and fired twice, the bullet sinking deep in the meat of his right calf. The mutant let out a pained yowl and tripped, suddenly shishkabobbed on a broken support beam. It choked and sputtered up a fountain of blood as its struggles stilled. 

"One more..." Ella mumbled, scanning the the area around the Virgo dish and spotted a movement behind the historical artifact. And then she squeezed the trigger once more when the ring leader peaked out for a split second. The mutant fell over dead. An impossible shot from a pistol with no scope, let alone a  _pistol._

Charon was utterly speechless as Ella turned to face him with a pure smile on her face. No, she had no method. She was stumbling through life doing whatever worked. Nothing made sense because it wasn't suppose to make sense. Ella did everything based on  _pure luck._   And be damned if she wasn't the luckiest smooth skin he had  _ever_ met.


	7. Megaton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella finally comes clean to Charon about her mission in the Wasteland and establishes some rules for Charon that are a little too cozy for his liking. After all, Charon has never had it easy...why should he start now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND FINALLY! I got so distracted lately, sorry guys. Let me know what you think of this chapter? I'll be doing a time skip in the next one, so keep an eye out! THings will be picking up soon. Btw, next chapter will probably be a trigger warning, so I'll let you know more in the next note.

Ella couldn't help the relieved groan that was summoned past her lips as she burst through her front door to stare at her homey little abode. Moira had decorated it with a theme while she was gone that Ella had rightfully paid for. Since Ella wasn't comfortable being back in the Vault, hated Raiders, found science a bit creepy, and wasn't comfortable with the idea of sleeping in the 'Wasteland' that left two options...pre-war and 'love machine'. Ella decided to go with the more docile of the two. 

Ella didn't know how Moira had managed to scav up all this 'pre-war' stuff, but everything looked pricelessly new, somehow defying the sands of time and the heat of the nuclear radiation. Charon lurked behind her, his eyes glaring into the shack and surprised when he found the familiar pre-war themes that gave him muted nostalgia from the faint memories all those long years ago. It almost seemed too good to be true. His mistress hadn't exactly told him where they were going, and now, standing in the archway of the home...

"I don't like the looks of this place," Came Charon's grunting statement. Ella went stiff and spun around in horror to face her bodyguard. 

"Charon!" Ella gave an objective cry. "This is my home!" 

Charon then began to gaze around the home, his taught muscles relaxing ever so slightly at this new information. Ella gave a rough sigh and shuffled by him and into the home. Charon slowly followed, his thoughts drifting to GNR Studios. Three Dog had howled with joy when Ella waltzed back into the studio covered in blood, grime, and dirt. Charon had scowled when the disc jockey stared at him and chuckled about her newfound company. He was very forthcoming with the new information about Ella's father, which left Charon in a swarm of confusion, and Ella and Charon left. 

"Ella, Rivet City is the opposite direction," 

"I know. But I would like to stop by Megaton first and relax for a moment...catch my breath," 

 Charon merely grunted and complied with his new mistress's desires. So now, here the stood in the quaint home of Megaton. It was large for what Charon was used to in the ninth for pest several decades. Ella returned holding two Nuka-Cola's, crisp ice coating the glass bottles and handed one to Charon who held it for a moment. "Drink," Ella sighed and Charon lifted the bottle to his ruined lips. The bubbly drink was cold and sharp, hitting his tastebuds in all the right ways...Another wave of nostalgia threatened Charon. 

"So, I think we should talk," Ella began after downing a sip of the bubbly soda. Charon swallowed and stared at her harshly. 

"If conversation is what you wish, then I shall provide it," 

_Geez, he really doesn't have to sound so formal..._

"Erm, alright. Well, I know you've kind of been in the dark about what's happening with me right now," Ella spoke, toying with her feet. "I'm from Vault 111. My dad left me and now I'm trying to find him, but it's a lot more difficult than I anticipated," 

Charon's face remained stoic. Vault 111? Supposedly the vault that never opened. He gazed his mistress over, noting how the skin peeled from her forehead, nose and cheeks, and all around her face was pinkened from the sun...and it explained how she looked so soft and frail. Indeed, Charon had his work cut out. 

"So long as you hold my contract, I shall follow you and do as you command," Charon recited and Ella grimaced. 

"About that," She said. "I really, really don't like how close this feels to slavery. So, allow me to set up a few ground rules, okay?"

 _Ground rules?_ Charon did well to hide his confusion then. He was no slave and didn't understand what Ella was having such a hard time understanding about that. 

"Follow me," She nodded and Charon complied, following her up the metal staircase. She stopped in front of a small room that looked more like a lounge. There was a mattress crammed in the corner and she pulled it down, letting it hit the floor with a thud, motes of dust filling the hair as she coughed and swatted. "This room might be a little small, but it's yours,"

 _Mine?_ Charon felt the word ring out in his head, the growing and brewing hatred he had for Ella pausing in that moment. Discomfort now took over...When was the last time Charon was allowed to call anything truly his?

"If you're sleepy, then sleep. If you're hungry, then eat. You know where the fridge is. If you want to go roam the town by yourself, go to the bar, then go. You are free to come and do as you like," Ella felt like that was fair enough and she chalked it up as a win, it was something close to freedom until she could actually figure out how to break the contract holding Charon hostage.  But Charon was baffled. Ahzrukhal, and employers before him, had always found loopholes in the contract. Charon wasn't a slave and had his own smart-ass personality, which earned him torturous days and nights without sleep and horrid fastings. 

And here was his new employer, showing him lengths of kindness that he hadn't seen in over a century. His own  _bed?_ His own  _room_ at that! But he remained on his guard. He was still trying to figure his new mistress out. She was still young, and she could conform to the Wasteland's expectations. Just as easily as she gave him these things, she could take them away. So Charon clenched his jaw and nodded. 

"Is this fine, Charon-,"

"It is unnecessary," He spoke harshly. Ella flinched and tried to mask the hurt that filled her. 

"Oh, I just thought this might be a nice change from what you are used to," She mumbled and eyed the ghoul for a moment. "You seem like you have something to say...you're allowed to speak, you know, you won't get punished for talking-,"

"If you are seeking a sign of gratitude from me, you will find none. Stop badgering me. Is there anything else you need to converse about, Ella?" 

Her jaw had completely detached, eyes were widened to the size of saucers. Had Charon really spoke to her like that?

"Okay," She shut her mouth with a click of her teeth and glared a burning green gaze at Charon. "I just thought that after purchasing your contract for two thousand caps, letting you murder your previous employer, and giving you as much freedom as I'm allowed to give you, in example, your own room, it wouldn't sound so bad as to hear a  _thank you_ , _"_

 Charon sent a silent glower to the small female who requited it with just as much malice as she could muster. 

"Are you ordering me to thank you?" Charon asked testily, nudging at her patience cruelly. Ella clenched her jaw and fisted her small pale hands. This would be another test for his new mistress. If she would be like all the other employers and demand that he fall onto his knees-.

"Screw you," She spat at him and spun on her heel. "I will do to you the same way I was taught. Here's your room, when you are hungry eat and when you're tired sleep. Mull this over, and when your conscience has eaten away at you enough, my room is down the hall on the right, and I will readily accept your apology and gratitude!"

She spun out and left, leaving her faint, sweet smelling aroma to linger for a moment. It was safe to say the ghoul was baffled. She couldn't be serious, could she? What kind of childish, pre-war antic did she think she was pulling with him? Charon had to fight the wry smirk off of his face and bit down the deep chuckle that threatened to rumble in his large chest. She had a lot of spunk in her. But she wouldn't last with Charon. Ella would probably end up selling his contract or dying...the latter wiped the amusement from his temporary moment. 

Ella was kind, and compassionate and very giving. Too many people in the wastes want to take advantage of that. There was an unsettling feeling in his abdomen, like a knife sliding around his gut, at the thought of pretty, pale Ella laying broken and bloody in the sandy wasteland of the Capitol. Her body left to bake and rot in the heat... No, she would come around. A girl as gentle has her needed a tough ghoul like Charon.

But if there was one thing Charon had doubted, it was Ella's resolve. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been three damn days. 

Count that.

1  
2  
3

Seventy-two fucking hours. 

4,320 minutes. 

Three, god damn, days since Ella began this little  _charade._ But it was turning out that Ella would soon make a suburban man out of Charon. He was not used to this level of comfort and ease. He hated it. The walls were closing in, and without orders to carry, this left Charon in an edgy, claustrophobic state. He hadn't heard Ella even speak until this morning when the mayor, or sheriff, Lucas Simms swung by to see how the vault dweller was enjoying her new home. And they carried on a conversation! Ella remained as chipper and joyful as if the spat between the two never even existed. 

Charon felt his muscles tighten when he heard her voice, his milky eyes darting toward Ella as she opened the door. She had changed from her leather armor to a tank top and grimy cargo pants, her blonde hair piled into a messy bun on the back of her neck. 

"Hey, Lucas, what can I do for you?" Ella chirped. 

"How's it going, Ella, jsut making sure you're settling in all right. How's Wadsworth working for you?"

"Great," She smiled a thousand watt smile at the sheriff. "I wish he could tell jokes more often. It would make up a little more atmosphere," 

"I'm glad to hear you're doing well," Simms chuckled and patted his laser rifle. "I heard you got yourself a new companion?"

"Yes," Ella replied, her voice curt. Charon felt irritation flaming within him at their blatant gossip. Lucas gazed over her shoulder and he blinked for a moment, trying to separate his surprised. 

"Er, is that him?"

"Yes," Her voice was flatter this time. 

"Miss Ella, you do realize...well, it's a ghoul," Charon had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at the mayor and upsetting Ella further. Her little punishment was turning into massive, psychological torture. He wondered what else she might have up her sleeves to hurt him without dangering his immediate, physical well being. 

"I realize that  _he_ is my  _bodyguard_ ," Ella sneered at him. Lucas grimaced and tried to correct himself quickly while Charon whipped his head around so fast to stare at his employer, it could have detatched from his neck. He felt a glimmer of shock at her words. Was she really defending him after these past few days of wordless exchanges and mental torture? It wasn't as if what she was doing was more harmful than what Ahzrukhal or any of his previous employers had done to him...but be damned if it wasn't the most infuriating, getting under what was left of his skin in all the wrong ways.

"I apologize. I didn't mean anything offensive by it,"

"Of course," Ella spoke soundly. 

"It's just, you know those things go feral, right?"

"Sheriff, I'm going to give you the opportunity to leave my front door before you leave with a bullet in you," Ella snapped at him impatiently. "Who I do and who I don't keep in my company is my own business. And whatever afflictions they might have are their own business. Pardon my frankness, but you aren't turning into one of those Tenpenny bigots, are you?" 

Lucas was speechless, and Charon had to admit he was a bit lost for words as well. Ella settled for closing the door in the sheriff's face and turned around with a sneer on her face. 

"You can't sneeze without hitting some racist bastard," Ella spoke, ripping the words right from Charon's mouth. Her green eyes caught Charon's for a moment. Words dangled on the tip of her tongue before she seemed to remember that he was still on her temporary shit list. Her face went void and she clamped her mouth shut, stalking up the stairs. He heard her footsteps ahead and the faint sound of her bedroom door closing.  

Charon could not deny the feeling of raw, cold, hard guilt in his chest. He still didn't know her, this  _kid_ , but maybe he could force himself to take a chance that she wasn't all bad. Maybe. It was a lot to ask, but not many smooth skins went around defending the rotten, walking corpses known as ghouls. It was his years of rogueish, military, and sentry work that left him so battle-hardened and incapable of trusting his employers. No, he would not trust her...

But he could apologize... and maybe they could figure the rest out from there....

Regretfully, he found his way to her bedroom door. He lifted his fist and knocked, ruined flesh upon rusty metal. He could have cringed at the noise. Charon felt a part of him wishing,  _hoping_ that she would not open her door, that his knock may have gone unheard...but Charon just didn't have as much luck as Ella. She moved lightly on her feet and Charon jolted in his own skin when he came face to face with his pretty, young employer. 

Those grassy green eyes flitted up and down the length of his body before landing on his face. Charon was grimacing, the words tasting like pure vinegar as they boiled in his mouth. 

"Yes?" Was her short reply. But Charon could see it in her eyes. She knew why he was knocking on her bedroom door. She had been waiting, biding her time, allowing Charon to wallow in guilt that Charon didn't even realize was there. He didn't want to say those sour, loathsome words...

"I would like to apologize for my inconsideration a few days ago," Charon finally spat the words out, his face wrinkling in disgust. Ella widened her eyes, staring at the ghoul in shock. Surely she wasn't feigning surprise?

"Does it really pain you that much to own up to your own wrongdoings?" Ella muttered, sizing up the ghoul once more. "You must have a lot of pent-up hatred in that big body of yours," 

Charon tried to steel himself as he continued, "You are entitled to take any measures necessary to see that my behavior does not impede our work again,"

Ella couldn't fight the blush that tinged her face. Why did those words sound so...embarrassing?

"Charon, I don't want to punish you," Ella stuttered. "I just wanted to hear some form of appreciation for what I did. I'm trying to work my mind around this whole  _contract_ thing. Can you, well, have a little patience with me?"

"Yes, Ella,"

"Can you tell me why you didn't want to accept what I was giving you?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest. 

 Charon paused, contemplating that for a moment. "I do not know," He responded shortly. 

"Ahzrukhal didn't take care of you, did he?"

"Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. He is no longer my employer as well as he is dead now. I would like to not speak any more about him," Charon grunted in response and he watched as Ella's piercing green eyes softened like a prewar, flowing field of tall grass and wildflowers gently waving in the breeze.... He could practically feel her picking him apart. 

"He found ways around the contract to hurt you," She finally spoke and Charon glared at her. 

"Ella, I do not want to speak about Ahzrukhal anymore. He was cretin who did horrible things. I, as his employee at the time, was honor-bound to do as he commanded, just as I am to you now," 

And that was when the chips fell into place, everything finally coming together in both individual minds at the same time. One could practically feel the electricity in the air, and hear the buzz of the imaginary lightbulb flickering to life. 

Charon, enslaved to the contract, had done as he was commanded by his employers before him, to carry out each and every order no matter how cruel or inhumane. The memories lingered over Charon's shoulder like a dark passenger, crooning and giggling in his ear, vying for his attention. Charon had to bear the weight of his sins that surpassed over five regular human life spans. And he was a ghoul, immortal to time practically. Be that as it may, he was a human first, though brainwashed and broken, he had lived as a human first. So the answer sat before them, unvoiced yet acknowledged between the two. 

Charon didn't feel as though he was worthy of all these spoils and splendors. And to Charon, he knew he didn't deserve these  _things_ that his sweet, young employer was trying to give him. He had murdered and killed, assisted in rape, and broken every single law of his morality... what man deserved these rewards after committing five lifetimes full of crime? Not him. God, not him. No amount of atoning could make up for what he had done. He knew there was a special seat at the right hand of the devil waiting for him, kept warm and readily awaiting Charon's arrival... 

"I only want to hear one thing, Charon," Ella managed out, cutting the thick silence finally. Charon blinked for a moment as he stared at his kid employer. 

"...Thank you, Ella,"

 


End file.
